The Theory of Evolution
by Nateman364
Summary: You can't answer everything about the world, specifically life sciences. When you think you know it all, something else comes out of nowhere and proves you wrong. Animals are dying and becoming something more powerful with abilities thought to be myth. Wars threaten the horizon over the new shift of power, all because creatures are inhabiting the world known as Pokemon.
1. College Life

**A/N: I've had this in my head for quite some time now. I always wondered what it would be like to have Pokemon in the real world. Who hasn't right? If you say you haven't, I have to bluntly call you a liar because any fan would wonder what it'd be like at some point or another. Here is my interpretation of it. The characters and featured elements are based off of the Pokemon Franchise. This is how I picture Pokemon coming into our world.**

_**Rated MA**_** – This story has strong references to death, murder, drugs, Sexual situations, and language. It is not limited to racism, sexism, hate crimes, or anything else. In this story, expect **_**anything**_** that is a social problem or form of crime here. There may be religious beliefs questioned and tested in this story This is just for putting the reader's mind at peace. I WANT IT UNDERSTOOD THAT I AM BY NO MEANS A RACIST, SEXIST, OR CONDOME ANY HATE CRIME. I DO NOT CONDOME THE ACTIONS OF ANY CRIME WHAT-SO-EVER. AS FOR RELIGIOUS BELIEFS, I HOLD NO RESENTMENT TOWARDS ANYONE'S BELIEF'S. The reason for my religious beliefs is because I am Christian (Southern Baptist to be precise)**

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Pokemon or any characters in this story unless I mark them as OC at the beginning or end of every chapter. I own no music, poems, or quotes written into this story. They are under the ownership of different people that are named shortly after.**

**Other- I love feedback as to how my story is progressing. I am good with criticism but I do not tolerate Flaming. As a side note, I am a member of Writer's United. It's a place where writers can go and have generally a fun time on this site with like-minded people. We are not affiliated with Critic's United. Check us out. There's a link on my Profile page.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Published: 929/2014 **

**Updated - 10/9/2014**

* * *

><p><strong>The Theory of Evolution<strong>

**Act 1 - An Ancient Civilization**

**Chapter 1: College life**

"_The Mystery of the beginning of all things is insoluble by us; and I for one must be content to remain an agnostic" — Charles Darwin_

I stared down at the whiteboard at the other end of the college classroom. The classroom was a classic auditorium-like design with rising desks for the students like I myself. The whiteboard was covered in all kinds of information written out with a black dry erase marker. There were multitude of students here, some of whom I knew very well as I grew up with a few of them. Every single one of us were taking this class for one purpose. We were aspiring to be Zoologists like one of our teachers who taught us different subjects. It was more like a private college owned and operated by the very teacher we were waiting on to start our lecture. The classroom door opened revealing an older man with brown hair and tanned skin. The man had a red shirt on, khaki pants, and brown loafers. This man right here, I truly respected. He was the world's leading Zoologist specializing in interactions between Humans and the natural world. He was none other than Professor Samuel Howard Oak. He was a good natured, but stern Professor when it came to his class, like the others.

"Good Morning everyone," He said putting his leather document bag down, "Welcome back to Mammalogy II. Last time, we went over the differences between three different Orders of the Superorder Laurasiatheria known as Artiodactyla, Perissodactyla, and Carnivora." He walked over to a basket on the desk and looked through the stacks of paper in it. "Good. You've all complete your homework on recognizing the differences between the three. Now, who can tell me what Artiodactyla are?"

A woman closer to up front raised her hand. She was russet skinned with long dark hair that, in a certain shade of light, looked dark purple. Her eyes were brown and she was of Indian descent, though I didn't know which tribe right off hand. She had an athletic body that would make most girls jealous. She wore mostly clothes that had a tribal feel too them, often opting for brown leather or buckskin colors. Overall, she was a stunning woman. She was an athlete in high school, I knew that much she was the number one female athlete on the Track and she was part of an Archery club. Like some here, she served in the military as well for a short time. "Yes Neeka?" That was her first name. Professor Oak often forgot to use the names of everyone wants to go by. The name she went by was Iris.

"Those are Even-toed Ungulates," the girl he called Neeka replied, "Such as goats and antelopes."

"That's correct," Professor Oak said, "Anyone else? What about Perissodactyla?"

Another woman raised her hand. This one was curvy with short light brown hair and blue eyes and a slightly pale skin tone. She often wore red or maroon shirts and always for a red bandanna with some kind of white design on it. In high school, she mostly focused on culinary classes and contests involving dogs, cats, and modeling. "Yes Amanda?" Once again, Professor Oak stuck to first names. The name she went by was May, her middle name.

"Odd-toed Ungulates," May replied, "Like Horses and Cows."

"Correct," Professor Oak spoke, "And finally, what about Carnivora?"

A man raised his hand this time. This man had brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a collared polo-like shirt, and blue jeans with brown shoes. He wore a necklace with a single black and yellow, Yin-Yang crest on it. This guy right here was also previously in the military. He was also a distant cousin of mine and he was probably the biggest asshole I ever met. He was good at whatever he did and was ambitious. But he was also the kind of guy you had to warm up to. "Shayne?" Professor Oak even referred his own grandson by first name. His name was Shayne Garrison Oak, but all of us called him either Shayne or Gary.

"Carnivores Gramps," Shayne replied, "Like a wolf or lion."

"Good Shayne," Professor Oak said. He walked around the desk and stared at us. "If you all have noticed, I have copied exactly what remains of this course's syllabus on the whiteboard. I want you all to start on chapter seven in your Mammology books. Note that Laurasaitheria and Euarchontoglires are the only Superorder we'll be discussing for this course as I have said countless times. That means we will not discuss the Superorder's of Ameridelphia, Australidelphia, or Monotremata of Mammology I. We will not discuss Xenarthra and Afrotheria under Mammology III either. Understood?" There were a few nods of agreement.

So we all started on Chapter seven, which was on Even-toed Ungulates. Some may wonder why I was here. Why would I sit in this class doing nothing but looking up animals? Well, my profession demanded it. It demanded that I study everything I can. I was going to be a Zoologist like everyone else here in this classroom. That's actually what this University was for. It was known as Myrtlewood University of Life Sciences (MULS) located in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Myrtle Beach has a few small communities on its outskirts, one of them being known as Socastee, while MULS's campus and the housing on it was called Pallet Town due to the fact that it used to be a large yard that manufactured Pallets before becoming a campus.

When class was over, all of us got up and started out to our next class. Yes, this college was private alright. There were about forty eight students here. But there were more students than that on campus obviously. I knew of most of them. The University was home to a research facility for life sciences such as Zoology, Botany, Geology, Biology, Archeology, and Paleontology. There were all sorts of researchers here most of them renown like Professor Oak. There was Professor John Endler Elm an Ethologist and Professor Henry Conard Birch who was an Ecologist. Professor Darwin Charles Rowan who was a Modern Evolutionary specialist. Professor Philena Ellen Ivy was the leader in studies of Biodiversity. Professor Sarah Hardee Juniper was a Naturalist and Professor Alan Hammond Sycamore was a Prehistoric Animal Evolution Specialist. There were also other specialist professors here who were such as Professor's Alden, Carolina, Proctor, and Hale here because of their respective fields such as Paleo-archeology, History, paleontology, and Archeology. There were a few more researchers and aides but I didn't know them all that well. This research facility was on a two hundred acre property with enclosures for animals that were found on the site. The enclosures ranged from lions to monkeys. There was even an aquarium on site near an inlet.

It was all part of the Oak Corral, the land owned by Professor Oak himself. It was a pretty cool place to be. Better than being in a war as a Special Operations under the orders of First Lieutenant R.J Surge. Lt Surge was my commanding officer as I was a Second Lieutenant of a Platoon while he was over mine and one other while we were all lead by a Captain. I remembered Lt. Surge. He was a large muscular man with scrawled blonde hair and blue eyes. He had numerous scars all over his body from knife wounds while being interrogated by enemy forces. The man had endured knife wounds and electrocution. At one point, the electricity surged causing power outages. I remember finding my LT in a fit of laughter after we fought our way into the insurgent encampment. I thought he had gone insane. I didn't know that the crazy son of a bitch had been laughing because it was because of the electricity poured into his torture that caused the encampment to lose power. Incidentally, it was because the encampment had lost power that we were able to storm the place two minutes after in the dead of night. _"Gray,"_ He had told me between laughs, _"Gray I did it. The assholes thought they could break me with car battery cables, but they couldn't. I lived up to my name! Haha, I lived up to my Goddamned name."_

"_Sure LT," _I had replied to him, _"Let's get you back home boss."_

I stared out over at the landscape, noting the multitude of students all around. That memory was a relief for me. I saved Surge and I only had six months in my tour of duty left. I shook the last bit of it away and followed suit, staring at one of the women's ass as I walked behind the crowd. It was more of an unconscious response to shaking from my memories and the fact that I was a guy so….yeah. This woman had short shorts on with a tank beige tank top. She was a red head and almost flat chested and had Viridian Eyes. Her body was light a stick but that only helped her swim faster on the school's swim team. She was a monster in the water too, breaking three records in speed, diving, and underwater performances. This red head had a fiery personality and she was more of a tomboy than anything. In short terms, she was cool, but she could be a straight up bitch when she wanted to be. Her full name was Claire Misty Waterflower. She was majorly different than her sisters Daisy, Lilly, and Violet. All three of them were beautiful models who would get a man's heart pounding quicker than a thriller movie. I think one of them got banged by Gary at one point. And I know the Basketball star of high school and survivalist named Jason Brock Harrison screwed Violet. He was a friend of mine. He was a mixed Caucasian African American and muscular with dark brown hair and thin squinty eyes. He was the tallest of us, even taller than the waiter triplets we nicknamed Cilan, Chilli, and Cress because they had worked at their parent's five star restaurant growing up. Brock was the biggest pervert out of everyone on this ranch and we all knew it. But he was a guy so, it was natural. He just couldn't keep it in his pants. His father had the same problem apparently. That's why Brock had nine younger siblings. Like father like son, I guessed. I wondered if they would _all_ inherit their father's perverted ways. If that was the case, then the Harrison family would reach the size of a country in a hundred years. Brock was bad enough. _"I came out of a vagina," _He had told me and about three other guys at lunch one time, _"I've been trying to get back into one ever since."_

"_Tell us something we don't know bud,"_ I had replied, _"Best be careful, you don't want to catch HIV."_

"_Fuck you Ash."_

"_No thanks, but I'm sure Drew's open for you. That boy's about as straight as a crooked hillbilly grin."_

I chuckled at that memory. Of course, Drew wasn't gay. He just came off like that until you got to know him. I broke my gaze from Misty's backside. I wouldn't touch that girl if she offered it up to me with the promise she'd do all the work. She just wasn't my type and I'd hate to wonder what kind of sex she preferred if that was possible. I was thinking BDSM. I wasn't into that kind of fucked up fetish. I could handle missionary and similar ones, maybe even doggy style if I'm feeling animalistic. Anal, oral, and anything else? Hell, to the motherfucking no. Jeez, listen to me. I'm starting to sound like Brock, thinking about sex like this. I may be a guy, but I'm not a pervert like Brock...wait. Scratch that, I'm not a _Super_ Pervert like Brock. I shouldn't have thought that about Misty and BDSM. She probably was nothing like that. I sighed inwardly. Me thinking like this was doing nothing but annoying myself. I needed a beer.

I pushed all those thoughts away in favor of mentally preparing myself for the next lecture with Professor Birch. He was more of a hand's on kind of man in his research. How the hell he stays cooped up in a place like this is beyond me. He was a guy suited more in the field, than in a classroom. I called it ADHD. I've seen Professor Birch do some crazy things before. Brock and I went on a camping trip with him and his son Brendan. Holy mother of god, he nearly went naturist on us because he literally had ants in his pants. The literally decided to flop back and enjoy the Blue Ridge Forest canopy. His dumbass moment came into effect when he incidentally landed on a piss ant pile. It didn't take him long to get up, that was for sure. Brendan, Brock, and I laughed our asses off and we promised never to let Professor Birch live that one down. Those were some good times. Professor Birch's laboratory and classroom was right up ahead. I stopped just staring out at a small area where turtles were peeping out of the water not moving.

You know that feeling when something bad is about to happen but you don't know when or where? I've been getting that feeling a lot lately. I've ran that feeling by Brock and Gary before. Both told me, Gary speaking from experience, that it was simply my survival instinct and my expectations of the world around me due to my training as a United States Army Ranger. That was the only reason I was like I was now. I remembered being a hothead growing up, always straightforward with what I wanted to do. I honestly was an idiot growing up and I acted like a child most of the time. But when the time came, I joined the Military and eventually got into Ranger School. I spent two years as regular Army, then ended up going to Ranger School and serve three more years before being honorably discharged after the end of the war. As soon as I got out, I was recruited once more by Professor Samuel Oak, a distant cousin of my mother and teacher. I had often voiced my opinion about studying animals and training them. Professor Oak gave me a shot at being here to do just that. This place opened up as a private education facility maybe a month after I got back on U.S soil.

Everyone says I have changed. They say that I'm not as hotheaded as before, but I have little regards for other people's feelings. The truth was, I didn't disregard someone's feelings, I just learned to kill my own for the sake of my time in the Rangers. I wasn't one to tell lies, and I certainly told people how it was. They call me an Asshole. Good, it means I don't let anything go unsaid. I had a feeling that I was somewhat becoming like Paul minus the anger issues due to a rough childhood. The truth is, military service changes you, destroys you, then builds you back up into almost a new person so you can better cope with the tragedy of war. Another thing, it was before my platoon rescued Surge from an insurgent encampment; but let's just say that he wasn't the only one who got caught and tortured. Let's also just mention that LT Surge's rescue was also a way to return the favor. I sighed feeling every scar I had received on my body thanks to some wannabe Islamic Taliban. The truth was I didn't have a problem with other countries or religious groups. I didn't even care if you were black, white, pink, green, or purple. But if you point a gun or missile at me, or anyone in this country in the name of your god or domination, I'd give you hell before you succeeded.

I shook that feeling of dread off before continuing to Professor Birch's class. When I walked in, everyone stole a glance at me. Apparently, I had been contemplating for a while in my own head that I was five minutes late. "Ah Ash," Professor Birch said grinning, "Nice of you to join us." I've known him for a while, so Professor Birch was definitely lenient on me. Professor Birch was kind of a heavyset man with more muscle than the other professors. He could easily be mistaken as overweight as a result. He was also slightly shorter than them. He had brown hair slick hair and facial hair that almost went to match wolverines.

"Sorry," I replied casually, "Just got lost in the past." Birch grimaced at this. He had heard what I had endured during my time in the Rangers. Hell. Sometimes I relived those moments. People thought I had PTSD. It wasn't that. I just had a vivid memory. I took my seat staring into space as I got looks from a few of my friends and some of my classmates. Some of them knew I was used to be a Ranger and was in a torture chamber just like Surge. Surge, that maniacal killing machine, was still a part of the Rangers, probably off killing some insurgents somewhere right now. He could have that life. I was done with killing middle-eastern people.

"Now," Professor Birch spoke, "As I was saying, we were talking about desert biomes and the animals that lived in them such as the Scimitar Oryx. For future references, this species is now extinct in the wild. We have a herd of them in our Desert Biodome." There were all kinds of buildings here that were built to mimic natural habitats such as the Biodome's or arctic buildings. Hell, there was even a large building based on mountainous forests with animals in them. That was ingenuity right there. "Animals rely on the habitat, and the habitat rely on them somewhat…."

I kept listening to Professor Birch go on and on about desert habitats and the animals that were found in them. When we were done with our lecture, I walked out last of course, but someone stopped to talk with Professor Birch. It was Professor Alden. I stayed behind, casually tying my shoe just to listen. Professor Alden always had something good up his sleeve as far as discoveries go.

"We've made another discovery," Professor Alden said.

"Oh what is it?" Professor Birch spoke.

"Remember that site in the Rocky's and the one in the Appalachian Mountains?"

"The ones thought to be built by of Native American tribes?" Professor Birch asked.

"Yeah," Professor Alden spoke, "The architecture looked like a combination of Aztec and the Anasazi people. However, inside the caves, the architecture takes after Ancient Greek and Ancient Egyptian." I listened closely. Four civilizations in one place? In the New world on top of that? Something didn't add up. I continued to listen.

"How's that possible?" Professor Birch spoke, "They were all in different time periods and on the other side of the world from each other."

"I don't know," Alden replied shrugging, "But it's that way for a reason. There are several hieroglyphics found in the ruins too. I'm not sure, but I think we discovered something amazing there. The hieroglyphs look almost like English script with eyes. Then there's the cave drawings and carvings, most likely created by Native Americans and Aztecs or Greeks. There are pictures of strange animals all over the place."

"Like Mythological creatures?"

"Yeah," Alden replied, "But more like cryptids of some sort and deity's based on global culture. I don't know. Brandon's still out there though, along with Eve, Telesu, and Hale."

"What did Brandon think about all of it?"

"He was amazed," Alden spoke, "He had never seen so many ancient cultures in one area. But one thing's for sure, we're keeping everything on tight wraps involving the media. None of the Natives in nearby reservations know anything of the ruins we found. In fact, we even allowed some of them come and see what we had found. They're just as surprised as we are about the place. In fact, I'm going to update Professor Carolina about this whole thing."

"I see," Professor Birch replied, "Well keep us updated. We may have to have a field trip over there, just to see what you discovered."

"We'll have to see if Professor Oak will approve though," Alden replied.

I left after that. I didn't want to be late for my next class with Professor Elm. But all of that gave me something to think about, which was something I did a lot. I was more of a thinker these days, going deep, wondering what made the universe and life itself tick. I wasn't rash and all too keen on making decisions without thinking anymore like was I growing up. I'd have to see if Alden would let me see some of the research they had on the place. One thing about me though that I can honestly say that was never beat out of me during my military service was this. I was _still_ keen on learning everything new I can, and adventurous, so naturally I wanted to know what had just been discovered in the Appalachian and Blue Ridge Mountains. I was thoroughly curious. Newly discovered ancient depictures of creatures and a new language in hieroglyphics? Not to mention four ancient civilizations in one area? Call me crazy, but that kind of stuff I enjoyed. Almost as much as I enjoyed working with animals.

Professor Elm was a slender man, definitely not athletic, and taller than the other professors. He had short unkempt brown hair, round glasses, and wore lab attire all the time. In other words, he was the typical nerdy scientist. He was the most disorganized man I had ever seen in my life. What we were studying in his class was Ethology, or animal behavior. He had multiple documents on desks for work in his classes, all of them barely organized by the desks themselves.

The last class for the day was with Professor Ivy. Environmental science was her lectures. She was a stunning woman, curvy, with shoulder length, dark hair that rivaled Iris's shade of hair. Of course, she wore a white lab coat like the other professors as well. When that class was said and over with, the rest of the day was free for us. I took an hour to finish my homework, while some other's procrastinated a little before getting something actually done. After I finished my homework, I went to work in the agricultural portion of Pallet Town, which incidentally was part of the profit that helped run the community. I often worked with several people on the Ranch. Lara Laramie was one, a Southern woman who steered cattle atop her Buckskin Philly Horse. Ellen and Mary were Shepherds who herded Sheep around all day, incidentally mother and daughter. Sonrisa was a woman who had this uncanny ability to grow and harvest any Sunflower seed in the two acre Sunflower plant field. A man named Fernando often aided Lara, and he was an excellent bull rider in the Rodeo's. Milton an older man who usually ran the area where Dairy Cows were located. Charmaine often worked in the apple tree forest. The list went on and on. I was hired as an extra hand, and often went wherever I was asked to go. Mostly though, I was in the fields that had vegetables that needed to have their dirt mounds built up or de-weeded. Often times, I'd shed my white T-shirt that I used on the Ranch to keep from getting overheated.

One point or another, I was asked where all my scars came from by the other workers. They seemed amazed by my scars and my muscular physique. I would tell them a few short sentences and asked for them not to question any further. _"I was a U.S Army Ranger. Got caught up in an ambush and was a POW for a short time. They tortured me until members of my unit came to rescue me. Let's leave it at that."_ We mostly got along great after that. But the stress of hard work, heat, and clashing personalities occasionally started a confrontation or two. Mary was probably the only one I hadn't gotten a temper with so far, due to the fact she was around sixteen? I wasn't sure. I wasn't about to get into some argument with some little girl.

Overall, my life was turning out great, minus my time in an insurgent encampment. I was proud though. Proud of how everything turned out and how everything was going. I stood up resting on a gardening hoe looking out over the fields towards the University. My Ipod was playing _The Only Way I know_ sung by Jason Aldean, Luke Bryan, and Eric Church. It was peaceful out here. It was better than being in that god forsaken war though. Pretty soon, I'd get to work full time with exotic species of animals as a Zoologist slash Zoo Keeper. And to be honest? I knew I could do it. I had distanced myself from people lately, mostly due to the fact I had been broken down and built back up. My attitude change was something of a gift and curse at the same time. I sighed, removing my problematic dwindling social life. Little did I know though, my world would literally change and initially not make any sense at all starting in about a few short weeks.

…..


	2. Get Over It

**A/N: So yeah this chapter continues Act I. There might be two or three more chapters. This story got a lot of attention as far as readers go and it went about as well as I expected it for favorites, follows and reviews. I really haven't seen many stories similar to mine with the same dynamics so I don't know if this is original or not. Anyways, thanks for all those who have supported the first chapter. At the time of this post, there may be a double update because I went back and tweaked some grammar. If I missed any, my bad. Another thing I'd like to point out is that I have three stories for Pokemon in the works, due to the fact that my crazy ass mind can't handle less than one idea. One of them is a well known story known as **_**Chronicles of the Chosen One Pokemon Master. **_**It involves Ash's journey from the First Movie where the world is pretty much his hunting ground for catching Pokemon and training them. Then you have this one, my method of how Pokemon come into existence into our world.**

**Finally, for my last story. Well, it's not just mine. It's a collaborative effort from me and a few members of my forum group called Writer's United. The story is called **_**Pokemon Yang**_**. The chapter I get to write is Chapter four, so at the time of this post, I haven't posted yet on it. But the writer's I'm with are pretty decent people. Go on over to my profile and there will be links to both the story and the forum. **

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Pokemon or any characters in this story unless I mark them as OC at the beginning or end of every chapter. I own no music, poems, or quotes written into this story. They are under the ownership of different people that are named shortly after. It will be a rare event that I have an OC, it will probably be really minor, or a COTD (Character Of The Day) like in the anime.**

**Other- I love feedback as to how my story is progressing. I am good with criticism but I do not tolerate Flaming. As a side note, I am a member of Writer's United. It's a place where writers can go and have generally a fun time on this site with like-minded people. We are not affiliated with Critic's United. Check us out. There's a link on my Profile page.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Theory of Evolution<strong>

**Act 1 – An Ancient Civilization**

**Chapter 2: Get Over It**

"_Animals are more than ever a test of our character, of mankind's capacity for empathy and for decent, honorable conduct and faithful stewardship. We are called to treat them with kindness, not because they have rights or power or some claim to equality, but in a sense because they don't; because they all stand unequal and powerless before us. Animals are so easily overlooked, their interests so easily brushed aside. Whenever we humans enter their world, from our farms to the local animal shelter to the African savanna, we enter as lords of the earth bearing strange powers of terror and mercy alike"_

—_Mathew Scully_

The sounds of lively music and partying went on around me with the song known as _Pretty Good at Drinking Beer_, sung by Billy Currington rang out over the speakers. There were people dancing near the stage that would usually have performers on it. It was actually a pretty good song, mostly about someone who loved to drink beer and wasn't much good at anything else. It was all in the lyrics. In front of me was a tall glass of draft, about one quarter's full. I didn't even have a buzz even if this was my third glass. It seemed that everyone around here was having a good time, save me. Most of the time, there was always someone like that. I guessed it was my turn. I was the guy who either was drowning his sorrows away on whiskey or the guy who just wanted to drink to get drunk. In truth, I was leaning more to the sorrows guy, but not entirely. My past was catching up to me. I was stuck in one of those situations where I was caught between belonging on the battlefield and back in civilization. That was the soldier and the civilian butting head within me. It was to be expected. The military physician that cleared me to be psychiatrically fit to return to civilization seemed not to have any problem with me doing so. Maybe he was wrong? I didn't know. I wasn't insane or anything like that. I was just unused to people not pointing weapons at me trying to put a bullet into my head. I don't even know why I came to this bar. It was one of many in Murrels Inlet, a mostly Creekside community full of restaurants, bars, and inlet ports. The place was mainly known for its fishing practices and seafood. It was a pretty chill little place, even if it was busy most of the time. Hence, what was going on at my back right now with all the shagging and semi to completely drunken dancing. No you idiot, I know what you're thinking. Shagging isn't sexual like most of you probably were thinking. Can't tell you how many times I've been in that conversation topic before. The Carolina Shag was invented in the 1940's, right here on the grand strand, and was a partner dance. It was quite popular even among the younger folk my age. I remember my grandparents use to do the dance.

"I figured I'd find you here," A familiar voice said coming from my right, "You always had a thing for this place." I didn't even look at the newcomer in the eye. I just merely looked at his forearm as he leaned against the counter turning my head slightly. I knew by that voice that it was Brock. I nodded, not responding. "What happened to you man? Ever since you got back last year, you've been distant from all of us. You know we've got your back right?"

I didn't answer at first, mostly because I was listening for the new song that came on. It hadn't yet. "Yeah," I replied with my casual voice, "still getting used back to being in the homeland y'know? Back here, there's no one shooting at me, threatening to kill me, and I'm not getting cut or electrocuted because some pansy ass middle-eastern insurgent wants sensitive U.S information." I shook my head. "When you live through something like that, of course, coming back here's going to make you feel like _you're _the ignorant bitch of the relationship."

"It's that tough huh?" Brock asked. I nodded again. Brock was one of my friends, yet I had been sort of a dick to him and the others since my return. I often set them aside while I stayed to myself letting all my memories swim through my stubborn assed head and let it all play out. I guessed it was my way of coping with six and a half years of Military service. Brock coming in here, seeking me out, pretty much told me what kind of a friend _I _had been since I returned. Damn…..I'm an asshole.

"Yeah," I said sighing, "I should be over it by now. It sucks that I have to process the change like this."

Strangely, Brock was more understanding. I was surprised he hadn't cracked a perverted joke yet. "Take your time bro," Brock said laid back, "While you're doing that, I'll be here getting laid with all the women in Pallet I can." _There it is._ I cracked a grin.

"Ah, see?" Brock said, "I knew under that gruff soldier-boy exterior my best friend was still in there. Felt good to smile didn't it?"

"Shut up," I quipped.

"Next step," Brock said as if he was listing off accomplishments, "Getting you in bed with a hot girl."

"Don't count on it," I replied shrugging him off. He looked crestfallen as I took another swig of my beer.

"Wait what!?" Brock said, "Hold up hold on there. Did my ears just deceive me? You _don't_ want sex?"

"I didn't say that," I replied.

"You implied it!"

"Brock chill out," I said , "It's not that big of a deal. Not really looking for someone right now. I've been in an internal war with my own demons ever since I got back. Who'd want a guy like me?"

Brock's mouth went agape. "Did you just hear yourself?" Brock said sounding astonished and appalled at the same time, "Come on bro, walk with me. Let the guru give you some advice." Before I could pick up my glass of beer, I was dragged away by him. _Fuck._ What did I just get myself into?

Brock and I walked outside onto the deck of the lowest floor that was floating on the water. The reed grass that grew in the water surrounded all the sides. No one else but two grown men out here? Awkward. "Figured I'd get you out here out of earshot of others," Brock said, "Didn't think you were so clueless on this stuff bud. I care for you Ash." I gave him a look. "No homo, asshole. You know what I meant." I nodded as we leaned against the railing of the dock. "You're my best friend."

"I guess you aren't so bad yourself," I replied jokingly.

"Hardy har har," Brock retorted, "Tell something Ash. Have you ever been laid? Don't lie to me either."

"No," I replied indifferently.

"I said don't lie to me."

"Honest to god, no," I replied.

"You're lying," Brock said, "What about that party after high school graduation with….damn what was her name? Oh yeah, Angie? You and her found a bed up in Barry's house."

"I did what now?" I replied in shock.

"Oh yeah you got wasted," Brock said as if he forgot about the whole thing. "Yeah, you screwed her Ash."

At this point, I tried racking my brain for a memory jog. "You're the one lying," I finally came to the conclusion."

"No," Brock said, "I'm not."

"You have to be," I growled, "I didn't wake up next to anyone."

"Bro," Brock said in amusement, "You woke up naked. The next morning, Palmer walked in almost having a mini seizure. He said you _both _were naked atop a mattress out cold. You woke up as if nothing happened. Angie disappeared before you woke up. I haven't seen her since as a matter of fact."

I did recall waking up naked at the party. I figured, at the time, it was one hell of a party. Now, I was sure of it, because I didn't remember anything during that. I guess screwing that girl Angie was part of the process. It certainly explained why I woke up naked. "Fuckkkk," I uttered, "Dude why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew," Brock said trying to stifle a laugh.

"Hell no," I replied grimacing, "How...….fuck."

"Yeah that's what you did."

"Okay then," I said regaining my composure, "Other than _Angie,_ which I don't remember by the way. I haven't been laid before, let alone ask a woman out." I was amazed at myself for breaking my initial reclusive and collected nature. Leave it to Brock to find a way to make me become an emotional scramble like some teenager again. It wouldn't last though. I knew that.

"Well that's where I'm going to give you some advice my friend," Brock said. _Oh god._ In under a few short seconds, I mentally prepared myself. Fighting a war, I can handle. Something like this? Involving a relationship with the fairer sex? I'm more clueless than a man with amnesia at a high school reunion. I wasn't so sure how Brock's advice would help me. I mean, he hasn't been able to stay in stable relationship since middle school. "First off dude," Brock said, "Do you know how much rep you have amongst the female population in Pallet?"

"Uh…."

"I take that as a no," Brock deadpanned, "Clueless Ash as usual. You have enough awareness in battle not to get killed, but you can't tell when a woman's interested in you? Or conversations steer your way? Typical."

"Watch it Harrison," I growled resorting to last names.

"Oh shut up," Brock quipped, "You know it's true. Anyways, let me tell you something about women. They _love _a military man. Particularly a veteran."

"What's so great that women are attracted to someone like me?" I asked completely clueless.

"Because man," Brock said as if I had missed something completely fundamental, "They just are. There are a few things you need to understand about women and what attracts them to men."

"You mean other than instinct?"

"Humans are different than animals Ash," Brock said, "Don't confuse instinct with something like human attraction. Anyways, four things that attract women are confidence, chivalry, looks, and or profession. It also helps if you know how to talk to them. No offense, but you fail in that department."

"Gee thanks," I commented. Why was I listening to this guy again? Let me go back to my beer and memories.

"But you have all of the other four," Brock said earning him a look from me, "You're confident in what you do, you have strong morals, you've got military physique, and you're a veteran working to become a guy who studies and works with animals. Dude you've got it made. Women eat that stuff up. If you can hold your own at a party, unlike that graduation party, and you can talk to women as if they were another human being, you'll have no problem getting the girl you like as long as she's single and interested."

I kept quiet, thinking on this. Maybe that's what I needed to get myself out of my little military reminiscing shell. This was one of those things that wouldn't go pass two best friends. It may travel to either Brendan or one of my other friends eventually; that was inevitable. The reason being is because an attitude change or something like that doesn't just happen from someone like me overnight. I knew I'd have to work on my personality again, which would be tough considering the six years of the military beating me into something of a killing machine. I sighed. "What's wrong?" Brock asked me.

"Nothing," I spoke, "Just thinking about what you just told me." I stood up straight. "It's something to think about other than what I had been through in the East." Maybe that's what I needed; a woman to get my mind off of things. I'm amazed at myself for keeping up that gruff exterior for two years now.

"I figured that's what you needed," Brock said to me as the night carried on, "A good talking to. Come on, what do you say we get back to Pallet huh? You kind of had everyone worried when you disappeared." Who did I have worried? I lived in my own house near the apartment complex.

"Worried?" I asked as we started up the stairs back to the bar, "Who was worried?"

"Oh the usual," Brock said casually, "Brendan, Barry, Max, Cilan, Ritchie, Paul, Hilbert, Nate….I'm gonna stop right there and name everyone, even some of the girls." Brock looked at me mischievously as we walked back through the bar and towards the parking lot. "Did you drive?"

"Nah," I spoke, "I walked." I there was one thing in this world I was good for, it was obeying laws involving drugs (which I had no part of), and laws against DUI.

"Good man," Brock replied nodding, "Come on, I drove here. That's a long ass walk Ash." I shrugged. Brock drove a large brand new GMC Canyon and he had R&B blaring. I didn't like it, but I kept my mouth shut. He came and got my semi-drunken butt. I listened to Country, Rock, some alternative, Beach music…and, screw it. I can listen to anything once except R&B and all but all rap. I like one or two songs by Eminem, but that's pushing it. Brock dropped my off at my house. When I got out, he asked me something. "You mind if I go across your yard?" He asked. My yard alone was an acre or two across until the street where all the apartment buildings were on. It was literally a mile if he went by road.

"Go ahead," I said waving him off before walking to my front door. My house wasn't much as it was an older house that belonged to my grandparents before they passed away. It was barely renovated with the modern standard of living though. I had the basics, but it was all older models found in the late 1990's. Considering it was the year of 2025, that was saying something. The only thing that I did have that my grandparents didn't back in the day was internet. The sad thing was. I had the money to completely demolish this house and put a two story house with a garage over it. But this house had a little sentimental value. I actually grew up in this house with my mom and grandparents. We weren't really the rich kind of people until both my grandparents passed away. They got on good with Professor Oak back in the day, mostly because my grandmother was an Oak himself and a cousin of Professor Oak, making me a distant cousin. My grandparents left my mom money for us to live off on when the passed away. What I didn't know was that my mom had us living on the bare necessities. I thank her each and every day for that in my own head. I'm glad I didn't grow up to be a spoiled brat. I even earned my money when I enlisted. I honestly still had about $90,400 left from my enlistment pay. I hardly spent anything I had made simply because I was always overseas. My mother had her own house on the other side of Pallet near Socastee. I walked in, noting the old walls as I always did. The place was stable, but there wasn't any furniture really. I had a fold out table that you could buy anywhere with plastic outdoor chairs. The only thing I did have that was of comfort was my double sized bed in my bedroom. My bedroom wasn't much either. There was another heavy duty plastic foldout table that had the only TV in the house on other than a small one in the kitchen slash dining room slash living room. My text books were atop my dresser for college along with everything I use there. I flopped into my bed falling asleep shortly after.

_I was in the desert of an Eastern Country when I first met Lieutenant Surge. He was my CO after all. My platoon was alongside the other under his command. He greeted us as any other leader of a company would; a heartwarming welcome speech. "Alright pansies," a mountain of a blond man said to me and eighty one others, "Welcome to Almia, or as the local insurgents call their claimed territory of it, Orre. Our job is simple. Find and eliminate the insurgent group known as Snagem. I'm not going to lie to you, these bastards are tough to weed out of their little cubby holes. I haven't seen this many problems since the U.S went to Afghanistan. Welcome to the Ranger Corp kiddies. Time to lock and load."_

I woke up. Of course I'd remember that infernal place in my dreams. I noticed that I wasn't hung over. This would probably be strange to people who just met me. I mean, I did drink six large glasses of draft beers last night; in other words, a whole twenty four case of beer. Yeah, I had kind of a high tolerance for that crap. I won't be doing that anytime soon anymore though; the shit's expensive. I did have to use the bathroom though. After relieving my bladder, I took a shower and got ready for the day. There were no classes scheduled on the weekend, but the campus was still open as well as most of the classrooms. This was because of the sheer number of students and scholars in Pallet. I did the math once, discovering the percentage breakdown in population. There were a total of six thousand people staying in pallet. Eleven percent of the population in Pallet Town were plain old residents right around six-hundred and sixty people. Thirty eight percent were researchers themselves which totaled at two thousand, two hundred eighty people. The last fifty one percent were students that either lived in Pallet Town or lived offsite.

I shook the thoughts away looking into my bathroom mirror after brushing my teeth. I had a rare eye color called Amber eyes, which was basically very light brown that looked almost amber. My hair was longer than it had ever been since I joined the military, my many cowlicks starting to show. I remembered when my hair used to be kind of bushy and all over the place. There was no taming that monster. So I killed it when I joined the military. If I kept my dark hair between two and three inches, it wouldn't be that bad of a hassle. There was a small, barely noticeable scar under each eye right on my cheek bones. This was a war wound where my sand goggles had lost their padding and the edges of heavy plastic cut into me right there in the middle of a one on one fight for survival with a Snagem insurgent. I was on the ground and he was stupid enough to try and curb stomp me. My goggles actually saved my life from that, which in return gave me the two scars. I looked at my shirtless body noting several scars that would forever be there over my shredded physique. There was a large an eight inch cut over my left pectoral muscle. One that was on the right side of my abs that was near vertical. On my right shoulder was where a large burn mark had been from a white hot metal strip. My back had several marks where I had been whipped, mostly on my upper back between my shoulder blades. I sighed. I could still feel the torture I endured no matter how many years passed.

I put on a white T shirt to compliment my blue jeans and brown shoes before heading outside. It was right at the crack of dawn, a perfect time to get started on the fields that were visible from the campus and apartment complexes. I had grown used to people watching me work early. The first time I showed up to work early, Milton and Lara were surprised as they were usually the first two that showed up. These days though, I was the earliest most of the time. I pulled my ten hour shift and went back home to take another shower before walking over to Pallet House, the local multi-themed restaurant owned by my mother. It was a popular restaurant, so I hear. I hadn't been in it in about four months now. But I have visited my mother at her home. I just never felt like going over to the restaurant.

Pallet House was probably the most popular restaurant in Pallet Town itself due to its food service and architecture. It had a drive in area for people who preferred to eat in their own vehicles. There was a patio for outdoor eating as well as an area where a roof was over a large concrete smooth floor meant for parties or similar things. This was attached to the side of a large white building that looked more of a large farm house on the outside than that of a restaurant. The entrance hall was modeled after an A-framed house however. There were rocking chairs out front with a wooden sign that said _Pallet House _on it. There were a lot of vehicles, golf carts, and bikes here. I assumed the place was busy as usual. When I walked in, I found that it was packed alright, most of everyone who has already been served. There were a few waiters and waitresses, most of them a generation ahead of mine considering they're all mothers, one of them mine. All the said mothers, in all reality, aged beautifully. They still maintained a healthy lifestyle, all of them having joined an aerobics class. In fact, they were a close knit set of friends.

There was my mom who had light brown hair and amber eyes, the eyes I inherited from her. I had grown slightly taller than my mom. She never told me where my father was, and I never asked. She was a kind, caring person who looked out for her friends. She could get a real mean streak when I ever deserved discipline growing up. It was kind of scary really. My mom loved cooking and sewing. In fact, her food was one of the best around. Then there was Mrs. Harrison, or Lola, Brock's mother. She had curly mahogany hair and brown eyes. She was into a lot of things, but she primarily worked as a waitress here and as an interior decorator. Don't let her decorate your house if you're a guy. Everything will go from anything a guy likes, to some kind of ball room out of a fairy tale for girls. Nah, she wasn't that bad. She pulled a joke on the males in her family by redecorating the man-cave that was a workshop. Next up, there was Mrs. Maple, or Caroline, May and Max's Mother. She too had brown hair, but had blue eyes. Her hair was always pulled up somehow. There wasn't much difference in her personality than my mom's or Lola's. Mrs. Berlitz, or Johanna, mother of a woman around my age named Dawn, was here too. She had dark hair that looked almost blue in the right ray of light, a trait that her daughter inherited. Another trait between mother and daughter was their ocean blue eyes. Johanna was a woman devoted to training dogs to perform tricks in her spare time. She was rather good at it as well. Apart from the mother quartet, there were also the waiter triplets, as we called them. It was Cilan, Chili, and Cress. Each brother looked alike growing up. You could tell them apart now. Cilan had green eyes, Chili had Hazel eyes, and Cress had blue eyes. They each were slender and had dark hair, all three with different hair styles. Cilan let kept his hair short, Chili let his hair grow to be a bit more shaggy. Cress however kept his hair long to the point it looked like the Winter Soldier off of Captain America. Of course, he had to tie it back while being a waiter though. Two of the cooks included Cilan and even Brock on the weekends. Daisy Oak, not to be confused with Daisy Waterflower, was also a waitress here. She was the older sister of Gary, and granddaughter of Professor Oak. This woman was stunning with wavy hair and dark brown eyes. Although she was no Daisy Waterflower, the two were on the same level of beauty. There was however a familiar, but not so familiar face in the server lineup though. I had seen her before, but I couldn't quite remember where.

I could faintly hear the sounds of my mom and Caroline over the customers who were eating. They were talking about some kind of furniture that you could buy off of a TV program. "Hey Delia look," Caroline spoke, "There's your son." My mom looked over at me and immediately smiled. I made my way to their direction passing by several people who were eating. Some of them stole a glance or two at me. I knew some of them after all.

"Hey my darling," Mom said to me as we exchanged a hug.

"Hey mom," I replied laughing slightly. The thing about my mom was that no matter what I did, no matter what happened to me, no matter if I was gone for a day or half a decade, she was always there. "I think you've gotten shorter."

She slapped me on the shoulder playfully. "And I can still kick your butt."

"True…" I spoke.

"So what brings you by here?"

"What," I said faking an offended tone, "I can't come see my favorite lady in the whole wide world?"

"Aww you can," Mom said, "I just figured you were off doing something else."

"Nah," I said, "Woke up, went to work, got off, came here."

"You took a shower right?"

"You mean you didn't smell all that stench when I hugged you?" I asked innocently, "Of course I took a shower ma." When I was a kid, I honestly didn't care how I smelled. I was just in full _go_ growing up. I got sweaty playing sports, roughing around with my friends, and playing with our dog that had died of old age. These days however, I wasn't a little kid any more. I was a grown man two years out the Army Rangers. I had gained morals, diminished a few, and gained an appreciation for hygiene products. In growth, I skipped the entire teenaged phase I guessed. I went from little kid to adult by the time I signed up for the Army. And I'll be honest, I didn't really notice the fairer sex the same way other guys like Brock did. That was a bad example. I don't think anyone can notice women the way Brock did. It was just humanly impossible. He'd meet them, and immediately have one in his bed. He kind of reminded me of a, and I quote in Brock's own words, "A darker skinned version of Charlie Sheen." It was bad when you can talk about yourself like that and still have everyone laughing.

"You better be bathing mister or I'm going to kick your butt!" Delia said.

"Mom, don't worry," I replied smiling, "Just be glad the military life style taught me such things as that." She gave me a look of either deep pondering or worry. She too, knew about the torture I had went through, and as she was already, she was even more worried when I had stayed in service to finish off the Snagem Terrorist Group. But she was immediately relieved when I came home alive. I think she worried more though after she realized that I was pretty much mentally reeling from my oversea experiences. I was looking to resolve all of that. I'd never forget it, that was for sure, but I could try and not allow it to bother me so much anymore. "Something wrong?"

"No," Mom replied shaking her head, "Just thinking. Do you want something to eat?"

"Sure," I replied smirking, "I'll take a T-bone Steak covered in mushroom gravy, a side of lobster tail, and a boiled red potato with sour cream ranch on it."

My mom and Caroline laughed. "We're all out of that." In truth, they didn't serve any of that. It was a family restaurant, not a five star one, even if it had the potential.

"No?" I spoke, "Darn. I'll have the double deluxe then. The meal please."

"Coming right up," Mom replied smiling before turning to look through a pick up window, "Hey Brock!"

"Yes ma'am!?" I heard from the back.

"I need a deluxe meal dear!"

"Coming right up Mrs. Grey!" Brock replied before looking through the pick-up window, "What's up Ash!?"

"How ya doing Brocko!?" I asked as I sat down at the bar.

"I have to make a burger for you?" Brock said with a crooked grin, "My day just got worse."

"Ah shut up and make me a sandwich."

"You'll regret that one later," Brock quipped back with a mischievous grin before getting to work.

"So how're you doing Ash?" Caroline asked as my mom went to take someone's order, "Brock told your mom and us about a conversation you had with him last night. Didn't go into detail though."

"Don't worry about it Mrs. Maple," I replied, "I just got a little lost with my own morals and judgment after what I went through, that's all. Brock helped me come back from it, or helped finish the recovery process." I tried to sound as genuine as I could. Damn that Brock. Even if he didn't reveal the secret between us, he didn't need to tell the whole damn world that we even spoke about it. I sighed letting it go.

"I see," Caroline spoke understandingly.

My mom finished with her order before coming back over to me. "Hey I forgot to tell you," My mom said, "Do you remember this little lady here?" She came with some other woman, probably a mother. She was the familiar, but not so familiar waitress I saw when I came in. She had semi-short stylish dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a figure akin to the other mothers.

"Uh," I said unsure, "You do look kind of familiar."

"I wouldn't expect you to know me right off hand," The woman said smiling. _Wait_, that smile. "I'm Grace Steward." Then I remembered, she was a Nascar Racer, another member of my mom's little gang when they were younger. I wouldn't call them a gang, just a group of close-knit girls.

"Oh yeah!" I said with a nostalgic tone, "You're the Nascar racer!"

"Former," Grace spoke, "I retired a few months ago."

"For real?" I asked.

"Yeah," Grace replied.

"She's been here for about a month honey," Mom said, "While you….dealt with things."

"Oh," I replied comprehending the situation, "Understood."

"Here you go ash-hole," I heard Brock say with a grin as he came around.

"Wow man that was weak," I replied, "Did you spend the last five minutes pondering that one?"

"Brock language," Mom scolded.

"Yes Mrs. Gray," Brock replied.

I finished my meal, all the while talking with mom and a few of the other employees. We conversed mainly on how my studies were going. I told them the truth. I haven't had a grade below a ninety three yet. They also mentioned someone named Serena who was Grace's daughter. They didn't talk to me about her, just a conversation between my mom and Grace. I vaguely remember someone by that name. I kind of had to, how could I remember Grace when she jogged my memory and not her daughter. I eventually shrugged it off, deciding to head out. I'll meet her eventually.

I walked back to the MULS campus and into the library. This library was always in use, no matter what time of the day. It was large, only having books on subjects taught here and of course, all sciences. There were several flat screen televisions hanging on the wall all whom had a different channel on. They ranged from news channels to documentaries on sciences. The one I sat down in front of however was a news channel. I started studying on Odd-toed ungulates. But something caught my attention. It was of a gang of criminals known as Team Rocket. It seemed that some of their members were caught growing Marijuana illegally in the state while also distributing it to people in different cities. Team Rocket was a Criminal Syndicate. The leader was unknown, but the group itself was known for many crimes. Theft, Murder, Drug Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Prostitution, illegal arms manufacturing, these were just a few things on their list of criminal acts. I ignored the television and went back to my studying.

About an hour later, I got up stretching before putting away my belongings. I was about to leave when I saw something on the TV again. This time, it was a Pallet Town news update. The news involved mostly MULS, its announcements, and the discoveries that the professors have made. The news reporter was named Alexa. She was older than I about eight years or so. I didn't really remember. She always wore her brown hair up and had dark green eyes.

"_Hi guys," She spoke on the student news, "Alexa here and this is the MULS News. Recently, there have been some new developments in technology involving our field of life science that incorporates other fields of sciences. Professor Oak is hard at work on a prototype portable electronic encyclopedia that, when scanning a species of animal, it can electronically recite verbal data to you about the species. It's called the Pocket Index, or Pokedex for short. Furthermore, a new type of animal transport system is being devised by a collaborative team of Silph Co engineers and Zoology Professors of MULS. This transport system is said to be portable, converting animals into energy that can be stored and released later. Lastly for now, we have MULS trained animal breeders working on concocting food that is said to provide the taste, smell, and most importantly nutrients for animals. I'll work to keep you all updated on these exciting inventions that are sure to change how we work with animals."_

I had to admit that all of that sounded very interesting. I wondered what kind of portable transport device that they were making. And how was that possible anyways? Converting animal into energy and back to animal when they were released from the device? I didn't understand how technology could have made a leap forward like this. Just in the later 2000's and the earlier 2010's, there was the invention of Computer Tablets that became almost essential to people today. Hell, it was to the point where people were using tablets in classes to write down notes or send assignments to the instructors that way. I had no use for something like that, simply because I didn't feel like paying for some eight hundred dollar tablet when I could get a laptop for more and still have better features. The problem was, I'd have to invest in one sooner or later due to the fact it was required next semester.

The next morning was the dreaded Monday morning everyone hated. Well I didn't hate it for one purpose. Every other week, our lectures flipped back and forward between two types of lessons. The theoretical aspect where we sat in a classroom every day, and the Practical Lessons, which basically involved us getting our hands dirty. Practical lessons often involved working with the animals we studied the previous week. Let me be clear with many right now. Working with exotic breeds is the most dangerous thing you could do if you are unsupervised and untrained. Even when proper safety precautions are followed, it is still dangerous. It was a good thing however, that most of these animals were used to human interaction. They were sponsors of their species so to say. Occasionally, we would have to dissect a diseased animal of the campus. This pretty much helped us learn the biology of the animal. The animals were well taken care of and were constantly checked on by members of the Veterinarian Joy Family. The Nurse Joys, as we called them, all had similar facial features and body figures. It was like they were cloned or something. You could tell them apart, but only vaguely. On top of that, every _Joy_, as a long standing family tradition, all had the last name Joy if they were female. Tell me if that isn't the most absurd thing you've heard, because this was pretty far out there. Oh, and the same thing went for a large family of Police Officers with the last name Jenny.

Back to what I was doing; my class was out in the Zebra Paddocks with Professor Oak. In the wild, Zebra were skittish due to their predation from the local carnivores. The species we had on site were known as Plains Zebra. Unlike their wild cousins, these were pretty used to human interaction and almost craved for attention when we approached to handle them. When we studied them from afar, mostly on their herding habits, they acted as if we weren't even there. What we'd do with them is pretty much take care of them by hand feeding them vegetables, brushing their dusty striped coats, and occasionally clean the mud and grime from their hooves. Most people called it work, I called it a valued profession. Last semester, I was scuba certified. This year, I would be certified to handle large mammals, and if I wanted to, own one.

We often went scuba diving in the aquariums that housed many coral reef fish. Sometimes, we'd even go into the more dangerous reef that had sharks in it. For safety, we often put in fish nets that were thin enough not to harm the fish. I loved every minute of my tenure here. I got to do things that hardly anyone would even dream of doing. What was really fun was swimming with the whale sharks. They were a bunch of big softies as long as you weren't constantly near them.

It was things like this that made my life a little more enjoyable compared to wartime. These were the good times so far, something I wished I had every day in that desert. I have had it for two years now; it was only now that I start to enjoy it. I didn't know why, but I got this feeling that something was coming. It might be good, it might be bad. But whatever it was, I'd be prepared for it.


End file.
